The music distorted when someone entered in our house. He was wearing a weird white trench coat and the way he looked at my father was terrifying and spine-chilling to watch. His left hand was holding my father's neck. Because of his heavy grasp, my father's breathing pattern collapsed. I tried to stop him but he was extremely strong. He easily put me a hundred of paces away from him by using his only powerful push.

I was just only 18 years old with a skinny body. He was in his 29 with a strong and bulky shape body. How can a vulnerable body of mine can take that strong push? Of course, I couldn't. I was in a state of pain. I couldn't move my right arm because of his vigorous attack. I earned a severe injury from my right arm. Even though he heard me in agony, he preferred to ignore me and he put all his attention from holding the neck of my dad.

I have no idea who the hell he was. I don't know why he spent the rest of his evening torturing my father.

"I gathered an information from my sources. It stated that you have something from me." A despicable voice I heard from his mouth. "Where is he?"

"I-I know nothing." My dad insisted.

"You will tell me or you will enjoy this scene?" That was the sentence from the guy who was holding the neck of my dad.

The end point of the gun jabbed my head and they weren't joking around. If my dad would choose to insist, they  would probably kill me as well as my Dad. My dad saw me crying in the corner of our house, waiting to welcome one bullet inside my skull. The guy asked my Dad for a second time  around; and my dad took a final glimpse of me and he spitted these words: "I'm sorry, Mr. Siyaszo Diasque."